Fancy Nancy

by Jane O'Connor

  Nancy and Bree spent all of lunch deciding on the best questions to ask.

  “Maybe I could ask what his dreams for the future are,” Nancy said, peeling a banana. She still didn’t have much appetite.

  “That’s pretty good.”

  “It’ll seem like an innocent question,” Nancy went on, “but it might catch him off guard and—who knows? He might tell me everything.”

  Grace and Clara were setting down their trays at the table.

  As soon as Grace found out about the interview, she looked mad that she hadn’t thought of it first. Then right away she started telling Nancy what to ask. “Find out how much money he makes and who is his favorite kid in the class.”

  “Grace, he’s not going to answer that,” Clara said.

  Grace shrugged. “Well, at least try to find out some personal stuff.”

  “Like what? We know he’s not married,” Clara said.

  “Nancy could say, ‘Is there a special someone in your life?’ When stars are interviewed on TV, they always get asked that.”

  Nancy had to admit, it was a pretty good question. She added it to the list.

  That afternoon, Bree had her tap-dance lesson, so after school Nancy lay in the clubhouse hammock trying to come up with more interview questions. She had ten. Was there anything she’d missed? She’d never interviewed anyone before and she wanted to be professional. Then, it came over Nancy again. The real reason for the interview. In a few weeks, Mr. Dudeny might be gone from their lives forever! There’d be a new teacher in 3D. A stranger sitting at his desk. Mr. D’s poster of Dire Straits—his favorite band—would be gone and so would his mug that said MUG in big letters. It was too sad to contemplate!

  “Knock, knock,” Nancy heard someone saying.

  It was Clara.

  She pulled aside the old sheet that served as the entrance to their clubhouse.

  “Your mom said you were out here. I was just riding by.”

  Nancy invited her in and let Clara look over the list of questions.

  “Ooh. ‘What were you like as a kid?’ That’s a fun one.” Clara stopped. “Nancy, what’s wrong? You look so sad.”

  Nancy swallowed hard. “It’s nothing,” she managed to say.

  Clara came over and wiggled beside Nancy in the hammock. She slung an arm around her shoulder. “Come on. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  Nancy tried to smile. Clara was such a kind person. Someone who was easy to confide in. Before she could stop herself, Nancy blurted out everything.

  Clara’s eyes grew wider and wider while she listened. She looked stunned. “This—this is just horrible news!” she sputtered. “I’ll miss him so much. Oh! And my poor little sister. All I do is say how great he is. Now she won’t get him next year for third grade.”

  “Clara, promise you won’t tell anybody. Not a soul.”

  “I promise.” Clara pretended to lock her lips and throw away the key. Then she asked, “Does Bree know?”

  Nancy nodded.

  “Do I know what?”

  Bree still had on her tap shoes and a blue leotard with a short, flouncy skirt around it. She was standing at the clubhouse entrance.

  “About Mr. D leaving! It’s so horrible,” Clara said.

  “Don’t worry, Bree. Clara’s not going to tell a soul,” Nancy added quickly. “Isn’t that right, Clara?”

  Bree didn’t see Clara nodding. She had already spun around and left.

  Later a message arrived in the mail basket. Nancy deciphered it. That meant she translated it from pig Latin into regular English.

  You weren’t supposed to tell anybody till you had all the facts, Bree had written.

  Nancy didn’t write back. What was there to say? Bree was right.

  The next day, Bree was still kind of annoyed. “A reporter is supposed to keep stuff confidential.”

  They were on their way to the art studio.

  “Forgive me. It was a moment of weakness and I regret it.”

  “Okay, forgiven. You’re only human.”

  They walked the rest of the way arm in arm. “It’ll be okay as long as Clara keeps quiet.”

  All during art Nancy concentrated on putting the final touches on her unicorn. Getting the horn to stay on straight was tricky but kept her from thinking about the interview. It was next period.

  Then, what seemed like only a second later, the bell rang. Nancy’s throat went dry. She swallowed hard. “I’m nervous,” she told Bree.

  Bree hugged her, told Nancy she’d do great, and headed toward the library while Nancy returned to the classroom.

  Mr. D was at his desk, drinking tea from the mug that said MUG. “Have a seat and fire away,” he told Nancy.

  From her first questions Nancy learned many superb facts.

  Mr. Dudeny was the youngest of six children.

  All his sisters and brothers still called him Pip—short for Pip-squeak.

  Maple walnut was his favorite flavor of ice cream.

  He loved horror movies—the scarier the better.

  He could surf.

  Then Nancy decided it was time to move on to her leading questions. She cleared her throat.

  “Did you always know you wanted to be a teacher?”

  He shook his head. “After college, I worked in Philadelphia at a bookstore. Then I drove a cab for a while in Chicago. After that I moved to Florida and was a lifeguard. I’m a restless guy. I like having new experiences.”

  Nancy stopped herself from frowning. That wasn’t a reassuring answer. Having new experiences meant leaving old experiences—like teaching—behind.

  “What made you become a teacher?” she asked next.

  “When I was a lifeguard, I taught swimming classes. I realized how much I enjoy being around kids. Doing what I do now means I’m around kids all day.”

  Ooh la la! This answer was a lot better! “Well, it certainly sounds like you found the right profession!” Nancy said.

  “Yes, I think I have,” he said. “Draezel is a superb school.”

  Nancy liked the sound of that answer too. Her body started to relax.

  “So that means you’ll never leave here.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Mr. Dudeny smiled. “Like I said, I get restless.”

  No! Wrong answer! Nancy stared down at her notepad. The correct answer to the last question was: Mr. Dudeny planned to stay at Draezel forever and ever. Until he retired.

  Nancy realized that she was getting nowhere. It was as if she were being spun in a circle or playing a confusing board game where, just when she thought she was about to win, it turned out she was right back at square one.

  Another question popped into her head, one that wasn’t on her list but one that might pin down Mr. Dudeny more.

  On the phone Mr. Dudeny had said the big change was coming in a month. Room 3D’s next class trip was also in a month.

  “Are you excited about the next class trip?” Nancy asked. The third and fourth grades were going to a matinee—an afternoon performance—of Peter Pan. Mr. D had arranged it.

  Pen poised, Nancy waited to hear Mr. D say: “It will be one of the most superb moments of the school year.”

  Instead he went and rinsed his MUG mug in the sink. When he sat back down he said, “Unfortunately, Nancy, I won’t be able to go. Something’s come up. But you’ll all still have a great time without me.”

  No. No, we won’t! Nancy wanted to say, “Don’t leave. School won’t be any fun without you.”

  Mr. D glanced at his watch. “So? Anything else you want to ask?”

  “I guess I have all I need to know.”

  “How’d it go?” Bree asked as soon as Nancy arrived in the library. Then she looked at Nancy’s face. “Oh no! Did he say he’s leaving?”

  “Almost. He told me he can’t go to Peter Pan. He didn’t say why. Just that ‘something’s come up.’”

  “Ew.” Bree made a face as if she smelled something rotten. “I don’t like the sound of t
hat.”

  “Girls, less talking, please.” Mr. Binder was looking their way. He held up two fingers pointing in opposite directions. So Bree went over to the new arrivals book cart and Nancy looked through the mystery shelf. Even finding a Nancy Drew she hadn’t read—Password to Larkspur Lane—didn’t do anything to lift her spirits.

  There was a tap on her shoulder. She turned.

  It was Robert.

  “Is it true?” he whispered.

  “Is what true?”

  “About Mr. D leaving?”

  Nancy’s eyes widened. “Clara told you?”

  “Yes. She was looking really unhappy. I asked her what was wrong.”

  “Listen, Robert. Promise you won’t tell anybody else! It’s not for sure, anyway.”

  Robert promised.

  Nancy found Clara by the window in an armchair, reading.

  “You told Robert!” Nancy hissed under her breath. “I trusted you, Clara. You locked your lips and everything.”

  “I’m sorry!” she whispered, clutching Nancy’s arm. “I didn’t mean to tell, Nancy. Honest. It just sort of slipped out.”

  “Well, merci beaucoup,” Nancy whispered back angrily. She started to march off. But tears were beginning to run down Clara’s cheeks.

  “Listen, Clara. Don’t cry,” Nancy said with a sigh. It wasn’t fair, was it, to get mad at Clara for blabbing when Nancy had blabbed herself. Keeping big news a secret was hard. “You didn’t tell anybody else, did you?”

  Clara’s eyes shifted away from Nancy. She didn’t reply.

  “Oh, Clara!”

  “I didn’t tell anybody else. I swear. But Grace was nearby when I told Robert. She might have been listening.”

  Grace! Grace’s ears had superpower hearing. This was way beyond bad. It was horrendous!

  Just as Nancy feared, the news was spreading like wildfire.

  A kid from the other third grade class came up to Nancy while she was waiting in the cafeteria line.

  He knew.

  So did Nola and Lionel.

  “We heard from Yoko,” Lionel said. He looked angry. “I’m supposed to be your good friend. How come you told other kids and didn’t tell me?” He stalked off, without bothering to wait for an answer.

  Nancy took her lunch tray over to her regular table. Bree was already there. Nancy felt torn. Should she tell Bree what was going on? Bree was going to say, “I told you so.”

  It turned out that Nancy didn’t have to tell Bree.

  “I found this in my ‘Just Ask Bree’ mailbox.” She was holding a note. She let Nancy read it.

  Dear Bree,

  I am very upset. There’s a rumor going around that my teacher is leaving school really soon. I don’t know what to do. Is it okay to ask him if it’s true?

  Thank you,

  Confused

  Before Nancy could utter a word, Grace passed by. “Did you hear? Mr. Dudeny is leaving next week.”

  “No!” Nancy cried. “He never said that.”

  “He keeps saying what a great class we are. But he’s deserting us!” Grace went on. “Teachers have to sign contracts, you know. Maybe he can be sued. Both my parents are lawyers. They’ll know.”

  Nancy put her head in her hands. If only time were like a computer and she could press the delete button, erase the last couple of days and start them over again. She felt Bree’s arm wrap around her shoulder.

  “I never meant for this to happen,” Nancy wailed. “I’ll never forgive myself if I get Mr. D in trouble. What should I do?”

  Right away Bree came up with sensible advice: “Tell your parents.”

  When Nancy got home, she found her dad doing the cha-cha in the living room with JoJo on his shoulders. Her mom was also dancing, holding Frenchy’s front paws.

  “We’re not moving!” JoJo cried. “Our house is getting bigger.”

  Nancy’s mom let go of Frenchy’s paws. “We’re going to build an addition! So”—she made an abracadabra motion with her hand—“problem solved!”

  “That’s nice,” Nancy said flatly, and threw herself on the sofa.

  Her dad stopped doing the cha-cha. He put JoJo down. “Nice? That’s all? I was expecting screams of joy.”

  “Are you feeling sick again, honey?” Nancy’s mom asked. She came over and pressed the back of her hand against Nancy’s forehead.

  “I’m not sick. I’m okay.”

  Then her dad explained about the good news. It had to do with getting a building permit from the town council. “We applied months ago but they took their sweet time,” he said. “The permit finally came in the mail today.”

  “It’s what we wanted all along,” her mom added. “We never wanted to move, and now we don’t have to. We can build an annex—doesn’t that sound fancy? There’ll be an office for Dad and an extra room too so—”

  “Mom! Dad! Stop!” Nancy held up a hand like a traffic cop. “I need to tell you something! I’m scared Mr. Dudeny may get in trouble. All because of me.” Nancy started crying now. Crying hard. “I think he’s leaving Draezel. I heard some stuff he said on the phone. I let it get out and now everybody knows. Everybody! Grace’s parents are going to sue!”

  “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Slow down,” her dad said. “Take a couple of deep breaths.”

  So Nancy did.

  “Nancy, did you do something bad?” JoJo asked. She looked both worried and excited.

  “JoJo,” Dad said. “I have an idea. Why don’t you go outside and play with Frenchy in the yard?”

  “No. I want to hear.” JoJo plopped down on the rug while Nancy’s parents, sitting on either side of her, listened to everything that had happened since Nancy heard Mr. D on the phone.

  At the end, her dad said, “Okay. So the trouble started because you were eavesdropping?”

  Nancy nodded.

  “Which you know is wrong. It was a private conversation,” her mom said. “And then you let a story get out, which, even if it’s true, wasn’t your story to tell.”

  Nancy nodded again. “I’m a terrible girl.”

  “No, you’re a wonderful girl who made some mistakes.” Her mom wrapped both arms around Nancy.

  The warm, spicy scent of her mother—it was a special Mom smell that didn’t come from any perfume—instantly comforted Nancy. She stopped crying. All she wanted was to remain with her face buried in her mother’s neck.

  “Also, maybe you’re wrong about Mr. Dudeny,” her dad said.

  “Really? You think?” Nancy turned so she was facing her father.

  “To me, it seems like you put two and two together without any proof that it was going to add up to four.”

  “What else could it mean, Dad?” Nancy untangled herself from Mom and swiped at her leaky nose.

  “I don’t know. Any number of things. There’s only one way to find out.”

  Nancy was pretty sure what was coming next. She watched her dad get the school directory from the desk. “Here’s his number. You need to call Mr. Dudeny and tell him what’s going on. You’ll work it out from there.” He handed her his phone.

  Strangely, even though Nancy was terrified to call, she felt a sense of relief. Her parents were solving the problem. They were helping her clean up the mess she’d made.

  Before Nancy could dial, JoJo jumped into her lap. She cupped Nancy’s face in her hands. They were sticky. Then she kissed her and said, “It’s okay. I make mistakes too. You’ll do better next time.”

  “Leaving Draezel? No! What gave you that idea?” After he heard why, Mr. Dudeny told Nancy that his “big change” was moving to his own apartment.

  “I’ve been sharing a house with some college buddies. A great bunch of guys. But I want my own place.”

  Also, it turned out that the reason for Mr. D missing Peter Pan was that a friend’s van, one big enough for moving furniture, was only available on the day of the class trip.

  “So you overheard me on the phone.”

  “Yes. I’m so sorry. Really! I didn’t mea
n to. Not at first. Then I didn’t want you to know I was listening. I was afraid you’d get mad.”

  “I wouldn’t have been happy about it, but we could’ve settled everything right away.”

  “I know. And I made it worse because—” Nancy paused. The next part was even harder to tell. “Well, I told a couple of kids . . . and they told more kids.”

  Mr. Dudeny didn’t reply. Maybe he was pondering. Finally he said, “So I guess this explains the message I got to call Grace’s mother.”

  “Sacre bleu! Really?”

  “Well, now I know why she called and what to say. And don’t worry. I’ll keep your name out of it. But Nancy—”

  “Yes, Mr. Dudeny?”

  “Do you know what inquisitive means?”

  “Yes. It means curious.”

  “Exactly. You’re an inquisitive girl with lots of imagination. Those are superb qualities to have.”

  Normally Nancy would have said merci beaucoup, except she could hear there was a “but” coming next. “But,” he continued, “this time you let your imagination run away from you. You misinterpreted everything that I said. You made yourself unhappy and some other kids too. All for no reason.”

  “I know that. And . . .” Nancy looked for words to express just how sorry she was. “And I apologize profusely,” she said.

  “Apology accepted. I’ll say something to the whole class tomorrow. In the meantime, you can let your friends know this was nothing more than a big misunderstanding.”

  This time Nancy did say merci beaucoup. And then she told Mr. Dudeny how ecstatic—how super-duper happy—she was that he was staying at Ada M. Draezel Elementary School.

  Nancy got off the phone. That’s when she saw JoJo, who had been hiding by the sofa, listening. But Nancy didn’t get mad at JoJo for eavesdropping. Instead, she grabbed her sister’s hands and started doing the cha-cha. Who knew? If JoJo was lucky, by the time she got to third grade, Mr. Dudeny would still be in room 3D. With the Dire Straits poster on the wall. And the mug that said MUG on his desk.